


Loved Are The Shadowed Places

by vaguesalvation



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Dark, Dubious Consent, Masturbation, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguesalvation/pseuds/vaguesalvation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruki will do anything for his dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loved Are The Shadowed Places

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains graphic descriptions of masturbation on camera and exploitation/prostitution. This probably the darkest fic I've ever written. It was almost physically painful to write.

The hotel loomed over me. It reminded me of my father, tall and broad and only as powerful as I believed it to be. It held no real authority over me, but still I was afraid of its judgment. Walls were often critical, blank and unforgiving. I considered the fact that concrete had no real thoughts and emotions—it was only there to bounce my own back at me—and I didn’t know which was worse, the fear or the disgust with myself.

Tokyo seemed darker tonight, as if the streetlights and neon signs had dimmed. Maybe they were ashamed of me as well, or maybe they were working in my favor, trying to conceal me in shadow. I figured it was better this way. It’s not as if anyone would recognize me. I wasn’t famous yet.

Yet.

I cursed softly to myself and pulled my hood closer around my face. It was much colder than usual for late October, the wind making my skin feel raw and overexposed. People walked past me on the sidewalk in overcoats and gloves, hats low over their ears. I wanted to walk with them, to lose myself in the crowd and become invisible once more. It would be easy to turn around now. It was my choice alone, ultimately.

But it wasn’t just my own future I was responsible for.

I had already agreed to this. Giving up now wasn’t an option.

Inhaling deeply, I took the first step across the street. Traffic whizzed past me as I maneuvered my way between vehicles. I kept my shoulders hunched to try to save as much body heat as possible, protecting myself from the wind, but by the time I was stepping up onto the curb on the other side, my hood had fallen down and my neck and ears were already starting to hurt.

The hotel lobby looked polished and expensive, but the only thing I really cared about was the fact that it was warm. It was decorated sparsely, with few seating areas and one large television screen hanging on the wall. The linoleum floor reflected the chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings and the walls were all painted subtle shades of deep red and beige. The whole place smelled of cloves.

I had to commend Nishimura on the choice of location. The place screamed money and sophistication, but it also screamed deceit. I knew what was hidden behind some of the solid oak doors, but to many visitors, it was just another hotel. If it happened to house most, if not all, of the late night exploits of the music industry’s biggest executives, the staff did well not to mention it.

I had to skirt around the lines formed at the check-in station to get to the receptionist’s desk. The woman sitting behind the desk was older than me by a few good years, but not so old that her beauty was lost on me. The top three buttons of her blouse were undone, exposing much more of her chest than was covered, her face mostly clean of make-up. She had her hair twisted up on her head and secured with a silver clip. Her nametag read Reiko in inked script. She smiled when she saw me, but I could tell the expression was difficult for her to make.

I didn’t blame her. It probably wasn’t a daily occurrence that someone as young as I was, and obviously struggling for money, came into her establishment. I knew I looked like I didn’t belong there, but I wasn’t completely out of my element. I’d spent much of my childhood surrounded by people who bought their way through life. If I’d learned anything from my parents, it was how to act like I was more important than I really was.

And that was exactly how I had to act if I were to get out of this unscathed.

I unzipped my sweatshirt and pulled it off, folding it neatly over my arm. Reaching up to run my fingers through my hair a few times, I made sure the rings hooked through my ears were covered. It was a quick and easy transformation, one I’d gone through every day for years back in high school. I may be one person to some, but I could be someone completely different when it was required.

I hated myself all the more for the fact.

But the simple changes had brought a more genuine smile to the receptionist’s face and that was really all that mattered. I was supposed to stay as invisible as possible, and to do that I would have to blend in.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The card was in my hand and stretched over the desk before Reiko could even finish her question. She took it between delicate fingers and held it close to her face to read it.

“I’m here to see Nishimura-san,” I said, leaning against the desk. “he told me to show this card to whoever was at the front desk.”

Her smiled turned instantly sinister and I felt my stomach flip uncomfortably.

“Your name, sir?”

I swallowed thickly. I hadn’t thought anyone would ask for my name. Nishimura had said my identity would stay secret; that I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone finding out I was there.

But there was nothing I could do about it now, aside from turning around and walking back out of the hotel.

“M-matsumoto.”

She nodded once and turned away from me.

“Hold on just a moment while I call to confirm your… appointment,” she said, her voice dripping with false politeness. She held her desk phone up to her ear. It seemed to take hours for her fingers to dial the right numbers, and another for Nishimura to pick up the other end.

“Nishimura-san, this is Reiko at the front desk,” now her voice was cheerful. “I have a young man down in the lobby here to see you. Matsumoto-san.”

There was a pause.

“Of course, sir. I’ll send him right up.”

After placing the phone back on the receiver, she disappeared into a room behind the desk and came back a moment later carrying a key card that she slid across the desk toward me. I picked it up gingerly and examined it. It was smooth and simply designed, identical to every other key in the hotel I was sure. But there was a weight to it, mocking me with all its potential.

I heaved a bracing sigh and shoved the key into my jeans pocket. Flashing another smile at Reiko was unnecessary, but I did it anyway. Later, I would want to know that I did everything I could to appear innocent. Later, when I would undoubtedly fight with my conscience about what I was about to do.

“Room 517.”

Reiko smiled back at me, but it was clear she wasn’t fooled. I suddenly wanted to run, to erase the last three days from my mind completely. Instead, I turned and walked with quick, measured steps to the elevator. I would never see that woman again, if I could help it. It wouldn’t be hard. Tokyo was a big city, and she’d only heard my name once.

It took only a few minutes for the elevator to descend to the lobby, but it might as well have been hours for how impatient I felt. I jabbed my thumb into the button several times and habitually scratched at the underside of my wrists. When the elevator was finally open before me, I took a cautious step inside and pressed myself against the back wall. I watched the lobby disappear behind glossy, reflective doors and I was suddenly alone.

I sighed again, this time in relief, and counted the seconds it took for the elevator to start its journey upward. It was a smooth ride, another subtle advantage to wealth. I was used to the quaking metal bars of the elevator in my apartment building, to the obnoxiously loud beeping as each floor went by. There should have been nothing discomforting about this place, but my palms were sweating and my heart was pounding against my chest regardless.

Never taking my eyes off the glowing numbers above the doors, I waited in silence for the elevator to come to a stop. It jerked a little once it made it to the fifth floor, almost like it was protesting my choice. I made sure not to touch either side of the doors when I exited.

The hallway stretched out before me derisively, the walls seeming to come closer and closer together the further I walked. This was a challenge, I knew. This was a test of my determination. I would just have to treat it as such.

I scratched at my wrist again.

Room 517 came up before I was fully prepared for it. I stared at the number in disbelief for a moment. It was so plain, so unassuming, so harmless. It made me sick to think what must be just beyond the door, what lay hidden behind the innocuous numbers on all these doors.

It didn’t appear that time was on my side.

I felt my arm rise, felt the wood against my knuckles as I knocked, but I was otherwise completely numb. I swallowed against the lump in my throat and counted the seconds it took for someone to answer the door, counted the footsteps I could hear coming from the room. My heartbeat in time to the seconds I waited.

One. Ba-bump.

Two. Ba-bump.

Three. Ba-bump.

Four. Ba-bump.

Five. Ba-bump.

The door swung open and it took all my will power to quiet my sharp intake of breath. Nishimura stood in the doorway in his typical attire, but instead of a black tie, the top button of his shirt was undone. Instead of shiny shoes, his feet were bare.

“Takanori-kun,” he said, voice like a snake through thick vines. It slipped over me, just a reminder of the danger, daring me to come closer.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” I went to bow but thought better of it. I didn’t want this man to think I was giving up control so readily.

He just smirked and pulled the door open further. “It’s always better to wait for magnificence than to spoil it with impatience. Please, come in.”

This time, I did bow, but the action was of ingrained politeness, just a dip of my head as I moved past him and into the hotel room. I didn’t like putting my back to Nishimura, or anyone with such obvious power. It made me feel small and unprotected.

I tried to ignore the flip of my stomach when I heard the door click shut behind me. Moving further into the room, I was able to really appreciate how much money must have gone into the construction of this building. The ceiling was higher here than it ever was in any of the hotels I’d stayed in. All the furniture was carved out of dark wood, meant to complement the warm color scheme of the walls and linens. The entire far wall was thick glass, Tokyo glowing beautifully beyond it. But what was most startling was the bed in the center of the room, large and high and obviously put there to impress.

“I find honeymoon suites to be the most comfortable,” I heard Nishimura say, startled by how close he suddenly was. “A western tradition, but I think they’ve caught on here quite well.”

I jumped at the feel of Nishimura’s hand at my waist, clenching my teeth together to keep from screaming. The lights were dim and there was already the smell of alcohol in the air. It was clear what this room was supposed to be used for.

“It could be yours,” he whispered, his lips brushing the skin just under my ear, “Can you picture it? Sleeping here the night after your big performance at Zepp? At Budokan? Thousands of fans there to see you?”

I could picture it. I had imagined myself on those stages so many times it seemed almost surreal now to even be thinking about the possibility. I had been dreaming of that moment for most of my life. And Nishimura could give that to me, could literally guarantee my success.

“You made the right choice, Takanori-kun.” His lips pressed against my neck and I shivered in disgust. I hated this man, hated him more than anyone else I’d ever had the displeasure of meeting throughout my entire life.

He could guarantee my success, but at a very fine price.

There was a knock at the door and I stiffened involuntarily. Nishimura laughed softly at my skittishness.

“You have nothing to worry about, Takanori-kun,” he reassured, unaware or uncaring of the fact that nothing he said could ever soothe my nerves. “We’ll take good care of you tonight.”

We? Who else was going to be here?

I felt my heart jump as Nishimura stepped away from me to answer the door again, but I refused to turn around and see who was there. I’d been under the impression that one Nishimura and myself would ever have to know about this, that I would do this and no one would ever speak of it again.

“Tanaka-san,” Nishimura said, his voice now candy-sweet and clearly fake. I could picture him bowing slightly to the newcomer, moving out of the way so this Tanaka could come in. I still didn’t turn around, just stared out at the lights of a city that had no idea what I was getting myself into.

“Nishimura,” Tanaka greeted politely, and while this new voice seemed much more pleasant than Nishimura’s, it still made my chest tighten. “The kid is here already, I see.”

The label surprised me, though I supposed I should have expected it. Nishimura was at least twenty years my senior. But I was far from what anyone could consider a child. I’d lost the innocence it took to be described as such a long time ago.

I turned slowly to face the other two, pivoting on my heel. Tanaka had come inside, but Nishimura hadn’t closed the door yet. They stood beside each other, looking in at me expectantly.

“Hey,” I said lamely. Under any other circumstances, I could be sociable. I was a fairly friendly person when I wanted to be. All hope of making friends with these men was ruined though, had been ruined the moment their demands had been made clear. But both men smiled at my witless acknowledgement like I wasn’t just another conquest.

Nishimura closed the door behind him and turned to Tanaka. “Didn’t I say he was gorgeous?”

“He’ll be even more gorgeous on film.”

I swallowed, nearly choked on my saliva. “Film?”

Tanaka laughed at the question and moved around me, further into the room. Nishimura took a few steps toward me, smile dampening a bit, feigned confusion coloring his features.

“Didn’t I tell you Tanaka was coming? He’s a photographer.”

I concentrated hard on not kneeing the bastard in the balls. “You forgot to mention it.”

I flinched when Nishimura’s hands came up to cup my cheeks, thumbs rubbing circles under my eyes. I wanted to look anywhere but at the other man, but he kept my face still. And I wouldn’t look away now that I’d met his eyes.

“You don’t want to back out now, do you?” he asked. I felt the hands on my face trail down my neck and shoulders, sliding down my arms until he could grasp the hem of my t-shirt.

I thought about this hotel room and what could potentially happen here. I thought about Tanaka and his camera, about catching this on film. I thought about tangible proof and disappointment in myself.

But then I remembered the look on Yutaka’s face when he had announced we were going to have a meeting with a record label, the excited bounce of Akira’s knees when we had been sitting in the studio. I remembered why I’d agreed to do this in the first place. I couldn’t take this opportunity away from any of them.

Nishimura’s smile returned fully when I reached down to pull the t-shirt off myself, leaving my chest and back exposed to the cool air coming from the vents in the ceiling.

"You made the right choice,” he repeated and walked around me to join Tanaka.

Again, I stood motionless, too stunned to move. It took great physical effort just to breathe, to pull air into my lungs and hold it in long enough to counter the burning in my chest. It was colder in the room now that I didn’t have my shirt to cover me. My skin was littered with goosebumps and the hairs on my arms stuck up.

"Are you sure he’s legal, Nishimura? He looks pretty young.”

Tanaka’s voice broke into my thoughts and I flipped around. He was sitting in the leather, high-back chair in front of the desk, exorbitant camera in hand, checking the film and lenses. Nishimura stood beside him with two glasses in one hand, bottle of red wine in the other.

"I’m almost 21,” I said, and I couldn’t keep the glare from my face. Tanaka just stared at me a moment, obviously skeptical, until he shrugged and went back to his camera.

"We’ve already discussed all the legal matters, haven’t we, Takanori-kun?” Nishimura said and I nodded, remembering the weight of the words of acceptance on my tongue two days ago. I’d been so angry, but then, anytime I was pushed into that kind of feeling of helplessness I was always angry.

"Would you like some wine?” Nishimura asked.

I nodded, though I knew I should probably decline the offer. The last thing I really needed was to get drunk. But it wasn’t as if my judgment when I was sober seemed any better.

My acceptance seemed to please Nishimura and as he turned around to set the glasses on the desk to pour the wine, I moved slowly to the only other place in the room I could sit down. My legs shook slightly as I walked to the bed and I was glad to be able to get off them. I sat on the edge and my feet just barely touched the floor.

I spent the time I waited for my drink watching Tanaka. He wasn’t necessarily an attractive man, nothing like Nishimura, but there seemed something vaguely endearing about him. It sickened me to think these things, to mentally assess the men who would later defile and degrade me. I wondered how many others they’d attracted with their artificial charm. I wondered how many people had met with them like this, on different occasions, in the same situation as I was in now.

My fingers grasped the stem of my glass when it was presented to me and I took the first sip without much thought. The wine was expensive, but that was unsurprising. More importantly, it was unimpressive. I knew Nishimura wanted to continue to enchant me with the amount of money he readily threw around, and I believed it enthralled many people my age. I wasn’t nearly that impressionable.

He sat down next to me, one hand planted on the mattress behind me so that he hovered just over my shoulder. It was unnerving, having him that close, but he seemed intent on staying, so I didn’t lean away. I could feel his breath hot against my neck, and I would be lying if I said he didn’t smell terrific. I took another sip of wine.

"You know what I like most about you, Takanori-kun?” he asked, but I didn’t answer. “You seem so unafraid of the world, so in control of yourself. And at such a young age. It’s impressive.”

I didn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the lust I knew would be present in his gaze. Nishimura was good-looking, even for someone so much older than myself. I wondered if I would have had the courage to say no had that fact been different.

I shivered again when I felt his lips against the side of my neck. “I want to see you lose that control. I want to capture how beautiful you look right now, how beautiful you’re going to look, spread out on these sheets. Completely and entirely surrendered.”

I swallowed, gripping the stem of my glass tighter and raising it to my lips again. My breath made a circle of condensation around my lips, washed away a moment later by the deep red liquid. My cheeks already felt hot, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the alcohol or from Nishimura’s teeth scraping lightly against my skin.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tipped my glass back, finishing off the wine in one swallow. It wasn’t a lot, not even enough to really make my throat burn, and it distracted Nishimura long enough to pull away, if only slightly.

The hand he had on the bed came up to take the glass from me. He leaned over me to set it and his own on the nightstand before returning. He took my face in his hands again, coaxing my head around until our lips met. I opened up immediately for him, telling myself it was only because I’d made a commitment. I wouldn’t allow myself to hold back. I had to do this right.

When he pulled away again, I didn’t open my eyes and my breathing was heavier. He lifted my head with his hands until he could kiss the underside of my jaw, sucking a little until I gasped. I felt him smile against my skin.

The click-shutter of a camera sounded from the corner of the room and Nishimura pulled away from me completely, turning to Tanaka. “Ready?”

Tanaka just smiled and nodded, rolling his way closer to the bed in the chair and bringing the camera up to his face. There was a flash and I flinched. Nishimura stood from the bed and walked around to stand behind Tanaka.

Suddenly, all the attention was on me, and I felt more exposed than I ever had on stage. It was frightening, and I could already feel myself trembling

"Just go at your own pace, Takanori-kun,” Nishimura directed, “We have plenty of time.”

"W-what do you want me to do?” I asked.

The smirk that appeared on his face was vile, hardly an expression a human should be able to create. “Touch yourself.”

I swallowed and nodded. I lifted my legs completely onto the bed and reached down to slide the button on my jeans through its slot. As soon as that was done, I heard another click of Tanaka’s camera and froze, my eyes flicking back up to them.

"Don’t pay attention to the camera, Takanori-kun,” Nishimura commanded, “Pretend it isn’t even there.”

Easier said than done, I thought, but I forced my eyes back down to my jeans. The zipper coming undone covered up the second fire of the camera, but Nishimura’s voice was back.

"You’re alone, in your room, maybe you’re listening to music, the lights are dim. Close your eyes. Imagine it.”

I obeyed. My eyes fluttered closed and I imagined my room back in my apartment. It wasn’t necessarily the most appealing place, but it was home, it was comfortable. I thought about what Nishimura said, about the music. I would be listening to something dark, something heavy to match my depressive mood. The vocals would glide out of the speakers over the sweet melody of the guitars over the solid rhythm of the bass and the drums. I could feel the beat in my chest, matching the beat of my heart, quick because music excited me.

"Yes…” Tanaka all but hissed and I forced myself to ignore him. I focused on the music that only I could hear, scratching my nails across my chest and sliding one of my hands under the waistband of my pants. I gasped when my fingers brushed against my cock, half-hard already, and I let my mouth fall open.

The camera was easy to forget after that, its clicks and snaps fading from my mind. I trailed my hand over my chest, scraping my nails over one hardened nipple. The mild pain ignited a heat low in my abdomen and I moaned.

"Move down the bed a little and lie back,” Tanaka said. I found it was easy to carry out his commands, to just let his words guide my movements. I scooted down until I was able to lie back on the bed and plant my feet right at the edge. I had to bend my knees a little and when my legs spread slightly to provide room for my hand working between them, I heard his wheeled chair come closer.

I was hot all over and sweat had already started to collect at my hairline, in the creases of my joints. The sheets underneath me felt cool, almost painful against my sensitive skin. I knew I was squirming uncomfortably.

"Relax, Takanori-kun,” Nishimura cut in. My eyes shot open and I almost apologized but decided against it.

I stopped moving again, focused on breathing and loosening my limbs. I knew my face must be tense, that my body was awkwardly placed. I pulled my hand out of my jeans and hooked both my thumbs through the belt loops. They would have to come off eventually, I reasoned. I wasn’t going to get out of here without showing some skin.

My jeans came off with surprising ease and I trailed my fingers against the outline of my cock over the cotton of my underwear. I shivered at the touch, freer now that my pants weren’t in the way, and my legs spread a little more. I knew what they wanted to see, knew by experience what sights could turn another man on, what sounds to make to assure I had all of his attention. I played the innocent child well, small, delicate; it would be foolish of me to deny it.

I pushed my underwear down my legs without hesitation, and what I thought was without reservations. My cock was fully hard now and when Tanaka’s camera fired again, I felt it more than heard it. I hissed as I wrapped my hand completely around myself and muffled the sound by turning my head and biting the inside of my arm. My eyes squeezed shut tight and my legs quivered from the strain of staying up. I let them fall fully open, my knees almost touching the mattress and there was three quick flashes, one right after the other.

My hand on my cock was rough, an abrasive glide up and down, but it was quickly made easier by the liquid gathering at the tip. I could hear nothing but my own heavy breathing, and still the music played on inside my head. I stroked in time with its rhythm, fast, faster.

The room around me fell away until I was completely alone, intent only on reaching my peak and tumbling over. I gasped as I rubbed my thumb over the head, pressed my nail into the slit and moaned loudly.

I was shaking, whole body convulsions initiated by each stroke of my hand. My skin was slick with sweat and my breath caught in my throat on each exhale. My chest moved like I was sobbing.

My release came quick and hard, wracking my body as ribbons of white streaked my fingers. My back almost completely off the mattress in an arc that was almost painful, but it was easy to ignore the pain and focus on the feel of the heat below my navel bursting and spreading over me in waves.

Lights burst behind my eyelids and I stroked harder and harder, riding out the orgasm until I came back down.

I collapsed back to the bed, exhausted. The sound of the camera was grating against my sensitive ears and I opened my eyes to glare at Tanaka. But all I was met with was a satisfied smirk and more blinding flashes

I watched Nishimura walk around to the side of the bed, kneeling next to me and running his fingers over my arm. I flinched. My skin felt raw.

Nishimura smirked and if it was possible, the expression was even more monstrous than before. His next words were spoken with as much mockery as I had ever heard in my life.

"Welcome to Peace and Smile.”

And just as quickly as it had come, my confidence faded. I was thrust back into reality too quickly, the truth of what I’d just done sinking in. I had known this would happen, had known the aftermath would be worse than what my thoughts had been before.

Disgust washed over me, disgust with myself, disgust with Tanaka and Nishimura. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin, but more than anything else, I wanted to be away from this room.

I wiped the come off my hand onto my stomach and sat up. I didn’t look at either Tanaka or Nishimura as I gathered my clothes, pushing my arms into my t-shirt and my legs into my jeans. I left my underwear on the floor by the bed and scrambled for the door, throwing my hoodie over me.

The trip back down to the lobby was a blur of cranberry and cream through my tears. I scratched at my eyes to get them to stop watering, but it just made them itch more. I looked at none of the hotel’s guests or staff as I fought my way through the crowd in the lobby and out the doors.

I made it only long enough to get around the side of the building before I collapsed to my knees and emptied my stomach across the gravel below me. Vomit splashed up onto my hoodie and I scrambled to pull the fabric off, tossing it into the alley as far from myself as possible. I could still smell the come caked on my body and it mixed with the smell of the alcohol I’d thrown up, making me nauseated all over again. But I forced a shaking hand against my mouth and sat back against the brick wall of the hotel.

I wondered what time it was, how long I’d stayed up there. It was no less dark outside now that it was earlier, so I couldn’t have been that long.

And I would swear later that it was the alcohol that drove me to continue, but the truth was, some part of me had wanted it. I had wanted those men to get their pictures, had wanted to be good for them. I would blame it on intoxication, and knew that were anyone else to find out, they would believe me. But I knew deep down that I wouldn’t have done that if some part of me hadn’t wanted it. And as I came to this realization, thinking about lying across that bed with those men watching me touch myself, I decided that that was all I’d ever be to them, that that was all I’d ever be to an industry I had thought for so long was where I belonged.

And the worst part of it was that I still wanted so badly to belong there.

 


End file.
